


Give yourself a Hand

by BecauseImClassy



Series: Inappropriate Workplace Behavior [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, Masturbation in Bathroom, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-25 23:52:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6215221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BecauseImClassy/pseuds/BecauseImClassy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A horny afternoon at the office. Matt likes to listen. Karen likes to watch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give yourself a Hand

**Author's Note:**

> This one requires that the office has its own washroom. Which it might, there's a door at the far end of the kitchen (briefly visible in 01.13), so I have decided it leads to a washroom. Which puts it right next to Matt's office, which is perfect.
> 
> Karen knows about Matt, but they're not involved yet.

Karen’s been feeling mildly horny all day. It was easy to ignore all through the busy morning—the conference with a new client, her research into yet another white-collar criminal who thinks he’s above the law. But now it’s quiet. Foggy’s gone to meet with a possible witness for another case, and she and Matt are alone in the office. And being alone with Matt Murdock is definitely not the way to keep from thinking about being horny.

From her desk she can see him in his office, glasses off, his tie loosened and his shirtsleeves rolled up in deference to the warm afternoon. He looks sexy as hell, stubble covering his jaw, his hair slightly disheveled. But what’s most distracting is what she can’t see: that _body._ She remembers how it looked in the rain, the wet black shirt clinging to him so you could count his abs. Now that she knows Matt is the man in the mask, she knows that body is underneath the tasteful suits he wears to the office, and it’s wrecking her concentration.

So she sits and watches him work, forgetting her own work, staring at his hands and wondering how they would feel on her skin. She can feel herself flushing, a tingling warmth growing between her legs. Watching him read a braille law book, she thinks about how sensitive his fingertips must be, and bites her lip as she imagines them moving over her body, stroking over the gooseflesh she can feel rising just thinking about it.

She imagines standing up, walking right into his office and sitting in his lap, straddling him in his chair, pulling off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, kissing those sexy lips and running her hands over every part of him she can reach, grinding her hips against his.

She closes her eyes and drops a hand into her lap. _No,_ she tells herself. _Keep it together Karen, you are at work._ But she’s wet, her clit is demanding attention, and really, why not? Not at her desk, certainly. But the washroom?

In his office, Matt hears Karen get up and cross to the tiny kitchen, then through into the washroom. He noticed the silence from her desk when she stopped working, and he’s getting increasingly distracted by the smell of her arousal, the musky scent increasing the wetter she gets. When she stands, the movement sends a wave of sex rolling across the room. It’s all he can do to keep up the pretense of reading, the smell of her going straight to his cock. He shifts in his chair, erection growing, and wonders how he’s going to get through the rest of the day if this keeps up.

The office washroom is tiny, but she’ll make do. She shucks off her underwear, gets as comfortable as she can in the cramped space, and sets to work. She runs her fingers down her slit, lubricating them, then begins slowly stroking her folds. She slips two fingers inside herself, clenching her muscles and wishing she had something better to use. She wants something inside her, she wants…she wants _Matt_ inside her, and that’s not going to happen, but she can imagine it. She plays with her labia, pressing, stroking, circling her clit as her breathing turns ragged.

She wants to moan, but suppresses it. Masturbating in the workplace is incredibly inappropriate, the least she can do is keep quiet. And the thought of Matt in the next room, totally unaware of what she’s doing, only lends fuel to her fire.

Or…her fingers slow, as a new thought occurs to her. _Is_ he unaware? She knows about his enhanced senses, but how powerful are they, really? Can he tell what’s happening, right through the wall? She finds the thought arouses her even further, and she picks up the pace again. She pictures him sitting at his desk, no longer working, face flushed, lips red as he listens to her. She imagines those lips where her fingers are, and it sends her over the edge with a shuddering gasp, her back arching, her hips thrusting against nothing.

Matt sits in his chair, transfixed. When Karen entered the washroom he heard the rasp of fabric, smelled the scent of her grow stronger, no longer filtered through her clothing. But any thought that she might just be using the toilet is quickly dispelled by the sounds that follow. Wet, slick sounds, the faint suction of her fingers entering and withdrawing, the slide of fingers stroking flesh, finding a steady rhythm as her breathing catches and her heart rate increases.

He shouldn’t be listening to this, she went into the washroom for privacy. But it would take more effort to block it out than he’s capable of right now, painfully hard, all his senses focused on the tiny room just on the other side of his office wall. He was attracted to her before, but this. God, this is a whole different level of desire. The smell of her is so strong he can practically taste her—wants to taste her. He wants to go in there and bury his face between her thighs, wants to explore every inch of her body with his hands, his lips, his tongue.

He considers getting up and shamelessly putting his ear against the wall, but she might hear him. And just then, her rhythm slows…as if she somehow heard what he was thinking. But then she picks up again, stroking faster and faster until he hears her come with a shuddering gasp. He wonders what she would sound like if she wasn’t trying to be quiet. He wants to hear her moan. He wants to moan himself.

He hears the water running in the sink, the flush of the toilet, and realizes he’s got to pull himself together before she comes out. His cock is throbbing, he’s desperate for relief, but he can’t do anything about it here at his desk. If she came out before he finished, she’d see him. And even if she didn’t, he’d have to walk right past her desk to get to the washroom to clean himself up. Better to just wait until the washroom’s empty, and then follow her example. Gritting his teeth, he turns back to his book.

Karen cleans up and washes her hands, then returns to her desk. She can’t help glancing into Matt’s office, but he appears to be reading, head bent over his work. She feels slightly disappointed—she’d love to see some evidence that he heard, that she’s having the same effect on him that he has on her. But she settles back into her own work, better able to concentrate now, feeling relaxed and happy.

When he emerges from his office a few minutes later, she watches him surreptitiously, raising her eyes without raising her head. And yes—she smiles to herself—the flush on his cheeks is as evident as the tent in his pants. After he disappears into the washroom, she slips off her shoes and tiptoes after him. He listened to her, after all, and fair’s fair.

Matt pulls the door closed, not noticing in his haste that it doesn’t latch. Enclosed in the tiny room, the smell of Karen is so strong that it’s almost enough to push him over the edge without even touching himself. He undoes his pants and his cock springs free, adding the smell of his own arousal to the smells of Karen’s sweat, Karen’s orgasm. As he wraps his fingers around his cock and starts to stroke, he thinks _This is what it would smell like to have sex with her,_ and it’s intoxicating.

He throws his head back and bites his lip, breathing harder, imagining how it would feel to thrust into Karen, to hear her moaning with need, gasping his name, to feel her fingernails raking his back. He suppresses a groan, listening for the sounds of her working at her desk to make sure she’s heard nothing…but instead, he finds her heartbeat and the sound of her breathing much closer, right outside the door.

Karen had only meant to listen, but seeing the door standing ajar is too good a chance to miss. She noiselessly pushes it open a few inches, and watches. It’s an ideal vantage, his right side is turned toward the door and she can see everything. He looks amazing, his lips red and full, the flush on his cheeks running down his neck to disappear into his shirt. The muscles in his forearm strain as he strokes himself. And his cock…she can feel herself getting wet all over again just looking at it, imagining how it would feel inside her. That cock is an answer to prayer.

When he throws back his head and bites his lip she clenches involuntarily. God, she’s tempted to go in and help him out, she wants to touch him and see him writhe, hear him moan. But she decides to stay where she is, and watch. She wants to see how he pleasures himself.

Matt realizes the door is ajar, and Karen is watching him. He feels an instant’s panic, but then he notices how aroused she is. He can hear her heart rate increasing, feel the flush on her skin, and the smell in the air intensifies. She’s getting turned on by him, as much as he was turned on by her a few minutes ago. Does she know he was listening to her earlier? She clearly knows what he was coming in here to do.

The rhythm of his stroke had briefly faltered, but now he resumes, feeling a gleeful, reckless abandon. Let her watch. Why not? The knowledge that she’s right there, just a few feet away from him, watching him come apart and loving it, is so arousing that he comes almost immediately, with a throaty groan that’s nearly a growl. He doesn’t bother holding it in, and hears her gasp in response.

He smiles, breathing hard and stroking a few more times, then turns on the water. He hears her return to her desk as he’s cleaning up. So, she doesn’t want to be caught. Fair enough, he hadn’t wanted to be caught listening to her, either. But if neither of them minded being observed, should he say something?

Karen sits down, feeling the need for a cold shower. It’s indecent how hot that man is, how on earth is she supposed to think about work after that? There had been a moment near the end, there, when she had wondered if he knew she was there. She knows he can hear her heartbeat, but she was counting on him being too distracted to notice. But after that breathless pause, he’d gone ahead, a wild smile on his face. Which means he doesn’t know. _Or_ …or he does know, and he likes it. Just like her. She looks toward the kitchen, wondering.

When Matt emerges, he crosses back toward his office with a slower step than usual, walking with a loose, easy stride and a subtle swing to his hips. He deliberately turns his face toward her and smiles, a slow, hot grin that makes the hairs on her arms rise. He straightens his tie, running one hand down the length of it once, twice, while she stares, mesmerized. She blushes, he raises an eyebrow, and his grin gets wider as he turns away and goes into his office. _Oh. Oh, yes._

She picks up a folder and fans herself, laughing breathlessly, and hears his answering laugh, wicked and teasing, as he sits down at his desk and returns to his work.

**Author's Note:**

> I am such a sucker for these two touching each other, in any and all ways, and here I wrote a porn where they never touch each other. Go figure.
> 
> Oh my god, he _strokes his necktie_ suggestively, what is wrong with me.


End file.
